Warmth
by Yuechum
Summary: It's been so long since he felt the warmth of a back.


Hello! The newest episode of Gintama was too much so I had to write something for Gintama. It's a short one-shot based on the episode of Gintoki meeting Shouyou. I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!

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A dismantled body. A bloody corpse.

Time didn't seem to move in this sphere of death, where bodies turn cold and remain still. The little boy's eyes follow the slightest movements of the crows that flock endlessly around him, so desperate to see life in any form. They never seem to come even close to him, and he stares down at the bodies scattered at his bony feet. He has a worn sword at his hands, far too big for an inexperienced little child. But he clutches his strongly, prepared to continue living in this empty world even when only death surrounds him.

He sees the sunrise and his heart flutters slightly with youthful enthusiasm, no matter how small it may be, that there is a semblance of hope remaining in this world filled with nothing but the clashing of swords and war at the soldier's fingertips. From their throats he heard screams, whether they were prideful for the victory, or helpless from a loss. Victory was a word foreign on his tongue. Did plunging a sword into a struggling body mean victory? How did the decapitation of a being, no matter how alien they were, give such a feeling of satisfaction to the men? But he never voiced those thoughts out loud, pretending to be dead in the hopes of being able to survive for a little longer. As he felt the cold earth underneath him, he wondered if he could merge with the land and become a corpse himself. But the sword at his fingers always shook with his persistence to survive, and so he scavenged through the fresh corpses of the day once again to search for food.

Although time didn't seem to move, the little boy could watch the sun fall gradually through the sky, painting it with its colors. The boy was always transfixed on the merging; how the reds and oranges, so passionate, could turn into the gentle midnight blue. He especially loved the moonlight, how it would create a dance in front of him with the stars. When it was this dark, the hollow eyes of the corpses didn't bother him as much.

Eyes could always unnerve him to his very core. In the darkness of the night, he could overlook them for the time, but in the presence of sunlight, the eyes seemed to look straight at him, pleading, and scorning all at once.

 _Please help me._

 _Why won't you help me?_

 _Why do you stand still?_

 _Do something. Anything, anything at all._

 _Weak, that is what you are._

 _Demon._

Although the little boy had heard these pleas and scorns so frequently, the last one never failed to have him flinch. With curly silver hair that shined white and piercing red eyes that dropped with a lack of vitality, he must have seemed monstrous to the monotonous colors of war. The people sacrificed their colorful clothing and decorations for the war effort, and he was a bright splatter on a dark canvas that reminded them of what they couldn't have.

With sneers and disdain cradling his back and the hollowing faces of the dead staring at him from the front, his shoulders hunched up in an effort to protect himself from the crows that seemed far too energetic for this scenery. Soft footsteps resonated in his ear, and a hand was on his head before he could even react. Alarmed, he slapped the hand away and prepared his sword, but the man in front of him did not move nor flinch. No, he smiled. Gently his lips slowly quirked up, with a soothing voice to accompany him.

He introduced himself as Yoshida Shouyou, a man making a school for children of all backgrounds. The only thing they would need is the determination to better themselves. With that, they were already samurai, with hearts prepared to strike down their weak selves and protect their souls. He talked about souls a great amount, leading the little boy to wonder just what was outside of these war filled borders. He had never thought about truly leaving, not when the people outside of this field would only be crueler, ready to strike him merely for his appearance. But this man was different, and he felt himself being gravitated towards him. And when the man offered a hand to take him away into a new world of infinite possibilities, he took it.

Perhaps it was the sudden relief and joy at the thought of a home that made the boy's knees weak and his legs stumble. And for the first time, he felt himself being lifted so gently, to feel the warmth of another human being's back, and have his shoulders relax with comfort.

 _Warm_ , the boy thought. _So, so warm._


End file.
